XIV; Ere Break of Dawn

  Bereft of the black doublet, and just wearing the checkered hosen with a white shirt, I sat atop a stone on the battlements of Castle Estain. The sun had yet to crack the mountains to the East, and a chill was upon the air. To the south, the Woods of Estain spread out like a black illness upon the land. In there, at my home, is a book. A book my mother wanted me to have. A book, quite frankly, she should have told me about when I was fucking there a day ago.

  Now I’ve got to make the journey all over again. I’d thought about doing it last night, but the hut’s all the way on the south end, and it had taken us nearly a day to cross those woods. It would’ve been long past dawn before I returned, and Professor Riscard would’ve questioned me again.

  I can’t say why, but I probably should keep that book a secret.

  “Gram,” said Hans, rising to the battlements. “What’s got you up this early?”

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “A common plight, I hear,” he laughed, leaning back on the battlements facing me. “But one I can’t say I share. I slept like a babe.”

  Right.

  We wallowed in the silence together for a while, before finally he started up again: “You should come with me later today. After your training, of course.”

  “What’s later today?”

  “There’s a tourney, hosted by the Baron of Myrtle,” he answered, pointing back over the castle. “I’m thinking of competing, and I’d much like a buddy to venture with me.”

  “You’re the son of a duke. Surely you’ve a host enough to travel with you?”

  “Sure enough.” Hans leaned back his head, and looked to the fleeting stars. “But my father wishes against it, and all I’ve truly got are servants. They’ll dob me in the first chance they get.”

  I see. “Nobody ever taught me how to joust, I’m afraid.”

  “Well there’s a melee too,” he offered. “Come! It’ll be grand, I swear it. I’ll even supply you armour—proper armour, not that paltry fit I was wearing yesterday.”

  I waved. “Alright.”

  “Splendid!” he roared, patting my shoulder as he rose. “Ah, I think I see your teacher. Forgive me, but my father taught me never to converse with those of a foxy nature. To glory, friend.”

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  Training went by a bit differently than the sole lesson I had attended. We were made to run laps around the lists, do various other exercises, and not once did we touch anything resembling a weapon. Apparently the time was too short to imbue any actual lessons of swordplay and the like, and so the hour was best spent training up our bodies. That isn’t to say it wasn’t taxing though. It was horrid. I truly need to get back my stamina.

  The others did what the others do—whatever that is—and I was accosted by Hans, who snuck me out the back of the keep. He presented two sets of armour, a black set with a flamed sallet, and a silver set with a starry great helm. Then we had to dress each other, because apparently the servants couldn’t even be trusted to do that.

  “We’re to be mystery knights,” he explained, showing off the two shields he had painted himself. One was of a pink apple on a black field, the other a golden fleece on a blue field. “Can’t have the Good Count telling my father of my attendance, you see?”

  On the horses he too provided, there were reasonable supplies and small tents saddled and three lances on each, though he informed me they were all for him. It made sense too, I can’t joust and I imagine you need a few lances. The rest, he said, we could purchase at the Tourney Grounds, if we made it far enough into the rankings. My pick was there too, the big one, and I wondered how he got that.

  Down the river, we rode along a dirt road etched against hanging alders and willows. We went without our helms for now, but he told me we could not take them off once we entered the grounds, unless we were in our tents or relative privacy.

  All these rules…

  “So tell me Gram,” began Hans, “what has become of you since the war? I know of Sandal, of course, so let that not fret upon your mind, but I mean besides. How has training gone at the Tower? Have you learned magic yet?”

  Terrible thing, to have my legend already spread across these lands. How many people have heard of Sandal, and what happened there, I wonder?

  I shake my head. “Our professor says we’re to train our bodies first, before we harness magic.”

  “Seems rather pointless,” he said, “but what would I know?”

  “What of you?” I ask. “I was glad to see you married yesterday. Have you any children yet?”

  “No,” Hans replied. “All still, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, friend. It is the way of the world. And her? Were you glad to see her?”

  I barely remembered her name, but alas… this would always come. “Do you still hold that grudge?”

  “You mistake me,” he laughed. “I never cared for her crush, and I never held it against you. Truly.”

  Truly? “Then why did you have me beaten?”

  He glanced at me, and there was a sad look in his teal eyes. “Just foolery. And the arrogance and stupidity of youth. I disliked the peasant who was slaying foe after foe, first over the walls and into the keeps, and wrapping himself in glory. I disliked that I was just a squire, only knighted near the end. And it took a while for such a dislike to fade, regrettably so.”

  “I understand such a thing.”

  “Do you,” he asked, curiously so.

  “Hate’s a… strong feeling.”

  “Aye.” Hans nodded. “But let hatred be but a fleeting thing to us, Gram.”

  “Agreed.”